


let me play it with your radio

by jadebloods



Series: HSWC 2013 Fills [8]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Homestuck Shipping World Cup, Incest, Infidelity, Jealousy, Prompt Fill, The Biscuit Game, background Rose/Kanaya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 11:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadebloods/pseuds/jadebloods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Before I begin the test, I gotta ask if you've been intimate with anyone tonight. In the 'fucking' sense."</p><p>She opened her eyes, looking blearily down at him. "Do you mean the blowjob I gave to my brother, or the sex I had with my girlfriend?" She rolled her head to the side and threaded her fingers through the dense curls at the back of his head, scratching his scalp almost like she'd pet her fucking cat. "Either way, I suppose the answer is the same."</p><p>"Like fuck is it the same," he said, trying to pull her dress down over her hips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me play it with your radio

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gloss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Turn me on, baby-o](https://archiveofourown.org/works/899508) by [gloss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/pseuds/gloss). 



> This is a fill for the HSWC Bonus Round 6, [originally posted here](http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/12848.html?thread=2454576#cmt2454576). This version is better edited, and the old version contains none of the porn. It's a remix of a prior HSWC br4 fill by gloss (coincidentally a fill of one of my prompts, so now we've brought this circlejerk full, uh, circle). I recommend reading gloss's fic first, but it's not like you have to or anything. I ain't your mom.

All of this would be over someday, and then they'd have to figure out what the fuck to do next. 

It felt weird to acknowledge that their time here was temporary, that they hadn't lived their whole lives on this meteor and wouldn't continue to haunt it restlessly until one day, for whatever reason, they blipped out of existence. Everything from his past was gone, and he didn't see anything familiar or certain coming his way in the future.

Well, maybe there was one thing that stuck around.

At least Dave had an anchor at the weird periphery of his ectobiological sister's life. He wasn't quite an integral part of her day-to-day but still somehow ever-present, like the garish patterns on the rugs she and Kanaya had strewn all over the makeshift living room. He might've felt a little bit walked on, just like the rugs, but that was better than nothing. The sad thing was that when she was standing on him, he never felt more loved.

He also never felt more played, and that was what gnawed at him, drawing him out to haunt the long empty corridors when everyone else was asleep.

Rose was back in her block by the time Dave showed up at her door, curled up in a ball on her side in a small nest of pillows and blankets on the floor. Most of them were fuzzy and brightly colored, the kind of tacky throw pillows with the shag on the front that got up your nose if you tried to sleep on them. He had no idea how she could stand them.

Her hand was palm up, fingers curled next to her face, and her knees were drawn up close to her chest. The compact position made her look smaller and more fragile than usual. Fragile was never a word that seemed to apply, except like this. Her makeup was smeared-- either from sleep or, y'know, her date-- and it gave her the look of a young girl trying to seem older. That was funny, though. Rose had never needed to try.

"Hey," he said, getting down on the floor and sliding up behind her. She was either asleep or close to it, and her breathing was deep and steady. He hovered over her, breathing in the scent of booze and sleeping girl sweat. Up close, he could see that her bangs were stuck to her forehead. He also noticed that she was still wearing the sexass dress, which was bunching and pulling in her sleep. "Hey," he said again, pressing his nose into the nape of her neck. She shifted, stretching out her posture to press back and meet him, but didn't say anything yet.

After she'd left him behind earlier, walking out of his bedroom and leaving him there rapidly growing sullen and flaccid, he'd gotten out of his crusty pile of blankets and paced, haunting all the corners of the room, picking things up and setting them back down again in the same spot. Then he had haunted the ablution chamber, standing under the water and washing off the accumulated grime and boystink. 

While he had been standing still and silent under the hot water, just like his Bro used to do for what had seemed hours at a time, he had also been wondering what _she_ had been doing just then, on her date, in that same dress. Was Kanaya touching her, and if so, where? Would he later be able to sense the places Kanaya had been? Would they feel different, smell different, be warmer to the touch?

He tested the theory, feeling the warmth of the back of her neck with his cheek. In addition to the booze and sweat, she also smelled slightly flowery, but that could be perfume. "Yo, Rose, you gotta wake up so I can subject this theory of mine to the mad rigors. I'm not about to be molesting your sleeping body though. Not only is it amoral, but I think it might also be a felony in the nutrition cylinder municipality." 

She grunted lightly, rolling over to face him and putting her fingers on his lips. Her aim was off, but he still got the message. "Yeah. So, how was your date?" In response, she smiled without opening her eyes, and Dave reached up and pulled one of her dress straps down over her shoulder, kissing her exposed clavicle. Her skin was hot on his lips, her cells probably hard at work metabolizing all that ethanol. He tugged the strap farther down, exposing the top of her breast, and he kissed that too. 

She stretched her arm out behind her head, giving him more room and an implicit invitation. "That's cool," he mumbled into her skin. "Next question: Are you drunk? Can you even consent to being a part of this survey, or should I come back later, y'know, with my clipboard?" He slid his thumb over her nipple through the silky fabric.

"Yes," she said with a slight croak. Sounded like she'd been out for a while, or maybe just out particularly hard. 

"Great, I'll be sure to report that to the Institutional Review Board." He squeezed her nipple, coaxing it up before hooking her other strap and pulling the whole top of her dress down. Rose still hadn't opened her eyes, so he bent down and put his face against her chest, rubbing his fingers absently along the side of her other breast. "Before I begin the test, I gotta ask if you've been intimate with anyone tonight. In the 'fucking' sense."

She opened her eyes, looking blearily down at him. "Do you mean the blowjob I gave to my brother, or the sex I had with my girlfriend?" She rolled her head to the side and threaded her fingers through the dense curls at the back of his head, scratching his scalp almost like she'd pet her fucking cat. "Either way, I suppose the answer is the same."

"Like fuck is it the same," he said, trying to pull her dress down over her hips, but getting stuck.

"Zipper's on the side." She didn't move to unzip it, so he fumbled around for the tiny-ass zipper. It felt like it might snap between his fingers, but he managed to thread it down without ripping anything, and her dress came off smoothly after that.

The dress might have been in her new color scheme, but the panties she had on underneath were the old Rose. Purple, with a black blossom pattern, just like the Rose he knew and not the loudly colored mess she'd become. (Okay, maybe 'mess' was uncharitable of him, but Dave wasn't a guy prone to charity to begin with.) He stared down at her for a minute, tracing one of the black flowers with his finger, where her legs met. "Was she here?" he asked finally, sliding his finger down. 

Rose exhaled softly, parting her lips but not speaking. She nodded. 

"Did you come?"

"Yes."

He rubbed the pad of his finger over her clit, like he'd done with her nipple. "Did she?"

Her legs parted a little, again making space for him. He was a welcome intrusion, but the fact wasn't lost on him that he was definitely an intruder. "Yes."

"Here?" He moved down, pressing his fingertip against her entrance.

"Yes." Her yesses were starting to get terse. She took his hand and moved it to her thigh. "Also here." Then she moved it to her stomach. "And here. And--"

He pulled his hand out of hers and rested it on her hip. "Yeah, yeah, all over the vicinity. I get it." He paused a moment, thinking. "It doesn't matter." Her panties were boyshorts, which seemed to Dave like an odd cut to pair with a slinky dress. Maybe she'd had to change them after, or maybe she'd subconsciously changed into something a little more familiar. 

Shit, maybe she knew he was going to be stopping by. _Fucking Seers_ , he grimaced. "Congratulations, you've made it to the second phase of testing," he stated in a clinical monotone before bending down and kissing her abdomen, just under her navel. The small, soft paunch there yielded to him, and he inhaled. She smelled powdery, but there was something underneath it too, almost spicy and leafy, like cilantro or some other fucking herb he didn't have a name for.

That was probably Kanaya's call sign. Dave's fist clenched automatically, but he forced it to relax because he needed more data, right? So, he shimmied down until he was at the fleshy part of her thighs, and when he put his mouth to them, they had the same under-smell. He exhaled through his nose and bit lightly at the skin in a line up her leg. "Dave." He grunted, and she continued, "Come here."

He pressed a kiss on her clit through her panties and crawled up her body, kissing over her stomach and along her sternum between her breasts, up her neck to her ear. "What?" He couldn't keep the exasperation out of his voice.

"What are you doing?" She tried to tilt her head so she could get a clear look at his face.

"Science."

"Since when do you care about the scientific method?"

He shrugged, propping himself up over her and positioning his body between her legs. "Got a burning curiosity."

"Must be quite the febrile curiosity if it couldn't wait until morning."

"I could, yeah. Want me to stop?"

She looked up at him and paused a moment before shifting her eyes away and shaking her head. He tried to read her expression, suddenly not as sure of himself as he had been, like maybe he was stepping over some kind of line here. It was pretty special when he could simultaneously be the rug that Rose was currently standing on, and have _her_ pull the rug out from under _him_. Kinda seemed like she was having her cake and eating it too, and hey, maybe that was why his fist kept clenching of its own accord.

He forced himself to relax again, and then sat back on his knees to tug at her underwear. She lifted her hips and raised her legs up in the air so that he could pull her panties off, and he set them deliberately to the side. He wanted to keep that token of her, the familiar swatch of black and purple flowers and the weight of the history it represented, nearby. History was one arena where he had more capital with her than anyone else, but it was a small comfort, especially since genetics was the other.

She spread her legs so that one was on either side of him, and he could see her clearly, even in the minimal light from the hallway that seeped in under the door. He took a moment just to breathe, resting his palms on her thighs before laying down on his stomach between them.

Time to collect more data. 

Every time they did this, he felt a little rebuffed by her restraint. It wasn't like he needed her head to start spinning around backward _a la_ Linda Blair and shit, all possessed with the unmistakable throes of passion induced by his universally renowned sexual performance, but a little affirmation would have been nice. Instead, she gave him a small, wordless grunt to acknowledge the presence of his tongue on her clit. Then she pulled her knees up, cupping the heels of her feet in her palms, and he scooted in closer, hooking his arms under her thighs.

She was tolerating him, but she didn't _need_ him.

He ran his tongue down over her, spreading her open, and then back up in wide circles. She tasted tart and sweaty, which was familiar to him, but also bright and green, like cut grass. He pulled back to put a finger inside her, slowly, starting by running the pad of his index finger through the saliva already on her and then pushing down and in, deeper. She inhaled sharply at the pressure, arching momentarily off of the floor, but she held steady when he pumped his hand softly back and forth.

To his credit, she did make a noise of protest when he withdrew his finger and stuck it in his mouth. Damn. She tasted green on the inside, too. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, aroused and more than a little pissed off.

"What?"

"Your pussy tastes straight up extraterrestrial." He put his finger to her lips and she parted them, running the flat of her tongue along the underside of it. "That her?"

"Yes," she said when he pulled out of her mouth. "But it's also me. That's the part you should be worried about."

His gut tugged with something, probably longing or dissatisfaction, but she took his hand and put it back between her legs, staring him in the eyes as she did so. "Finish what you start," she whispered, punctuating the statement by enunciating on the final 't'.

Shit. She guided his finger back in, and when she pulled away he added a second, pressing them both inside and curling them to the front. Rose curled too, her abs clenching as she moaned shortly through her closed lips. That was good enough for him, so he lay back down, keeping his fingers inside her while he used his mouth to massage her in tight circles. 

He tried to lose himself in the familiar side, the tangy, musky, human flavor of her, but the underlying green overpowered him. The scent of Kanaya stuck to the short hairs tickling his nose, and it stuck to his face as he got more enthusiastic, stroking her clit up and down with the point of his tongue. Fuck, he might as well be eating out Kanaya right now, because that was all he could focus on.

Her body grew tighter as the vocalizations that he felt he deserved were translated, instead, into clenched muscles, quivering legs, and her knuckles growing pale on her ankles. He was the one grunting with the effort of maintaining a degree of dexterity, especially as he got harder and less secure, wondering if she got loud when Kanaya fucked her, and why he was so different that she couldn't grant him that sincerity. It only made him want to work harder.

Maybe that was the point. Maybe she was right all along, and his juvenile need for approval from his dead Bro had just been transmutated into some weird quest for sexual affirmation from Rose. And if she got some good head out of it, well, all the better for her, right?

God, he did not want to hypothesize about this with Rose's pussy in his face and a monster erection in his dorky pajamas. Fuck. Was that really what he was testing here?

She came with a sharp "Oh," which was the only affirmation he was going to get, and he knew it. Her abs pulled up and her body bore down rhythmically on his fingers, releasing more flavor, equal parts familiar and alien. He rubbed her thigh with his free hand until she relaxed, before removing his fingers and putting them back in his mouth again. There was just enough of her left on them that he couldn't stop himself.

He wiped his mouth and chin off on the edge of his cape and then flopped down next to her, staring at the ceiling while she caught her breath and reached for her underwear.

"I could--"

"Nah, that's okay. One pity fuck per day is about all I can handle," he interrupted.

She pressed her lips together, but then kissed his forehead sweetly. "You can stay, if you want."

"I got shit to do. I think I need to go jerk off over a psychology textbook or something. Make like ten time clones of myself and then have all of us just masturbate furiously onto it. The poor motherfucker who comes last has to read the damn thing just to figure out what the hell is even going on here."

"It sounds like there's a lot to untangle, just from that tangent alone." She stood up, walking over to her bookshelf and selecting one from near the top. "If I may make a recommendation."

She handed him a book called _The Neurotic Need for Personal Admiration_. "Jesus, thanks. I can't wait to turn this into a record-breaking soggy biscuit. Hope you don't want it back or anything."

She looked a little ill, and he actually felt proud of that. "Right. Yeah, I gotta jet." He pulled himself up from her pile and walked out, tucking the book under his arm. 

"I'll see you later," he told her and closed the door behind him, wondering if he was ever going to stop smelling her on himself. That was gonna have to be good enough.


End file.
